


A Date at the Malt Shop

by SphinxHail



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Funny, Humor, Monster - Freeform, Monster Romance, Mutant, Mutation, Paranormal, Paranormal Romance, creature - Freeform, date, scientist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SphinxHail/pseuds/SphinxHail
Summary: Jessica never thought anyone could love her. She’s a monstrosity, and not even the hot werewolf kind. Luckily, her psychic field makes her nothing but an average woman to the eyes of passersby, that is until one man sees through her ruse. She isn’t sure whether she can trust this Dr. Scotts guy, but when you’re a lady with a hand as a head who else do you have to talk to? Now, she’ll just have to hope that this little malt shop meeting doesn’t go south.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	A Date at the Malt Shop

I leaned back in my chair, staring awkwardly across the table at the silent man. He was watching me with bewilderment and fascination, his eyes examining every inch of my head as if I were some prized painting at a fancy museum. Damn, I liked the attention and all, but this was a malt shop, and I was definitely _not_ the Mona Lisa.

“Uh... so how’s the football thing going, Dr. Scotts?” I asked, referring to last night’s game. I hadn’t actually watched it, of course. I had no interest, but most people had a thing for big guys tackling each other and all. Hell if I knew why.

Dr. Scotts blinked, taking a moment to process my question. “Hm? Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t watch football very often.”

“Heh, you and me both.” I chuckled, stirring my milkshake. At this point it had become more like soup than ice cream.

“It was Jessica, right?” He asked.

“Yep. Call me Jess though, please.” I said with a nod.

It had been just yesterday that I’d met Dr. Scotts in the dying mall. I’d been there to take photos for my blog about late capitalism, and he’d been shopping for cheap shoes. I had expected him to pass me by, just like the other humans. I had my psychic field to thank for that. It got into their heads, made them think I was one of them. Not this guy though.

Dr. Scotts was different somehow. He had immediately noticed my rather odd appearance and had rushed over, examining me madly and asking one too many questions.

I would have thought that any sane person would be repelled. I was monstrous compared to the humans. Where they had heads and necks, I had an extra arm atop my torso, topped by a hand with two very alien looking eyestalks. I was a freak to put it simply. Hell, I was probably right next to the definition of freak.

In the end, after his barrage of probing questions, I had agreed to meet him here at the malt shop. It would be much easier to answer him when he wasn’t talking at sixty words a second.

Dr. Scotts shook his head, “Sorry for staring. I’m just so perplexed. How did you, I mean why is your head-“

“Why is my head a hand?” I finished the question for him.

“Erm, yes. That.”

I thought on that for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, I don’t really know. I think I was normal as a kid, but I can’t remember. I wish I’d kept a journal. That would have been pretty _handy_ , don’t you think?” Oh hell yes. I had been waiting way too long to use that groaner.

Dr. Scotts looked at me, his face blank. For a moment I thought the joke had completely fallen flat. Then he smirked. “I see what you did there.”

“Thanks.” I couldn’t smile, but I hoped my eyes would convey the same expression.

“Well, I suppose we should get into what we were meeting here for.” Dr. Scotts said. He moved his hand over to his jacket pocket and plucked out a tiny pink notebook, its cover patterned with cute cartoony kittens. Nice.

“You into cats?” I asked him.

“Oh no. I forgot my notepad. This was the only one they had at the 7-11.” He told me, flipping it open.

“Aww, I kinda like it,” I said, “but uh yeah. You wanted to know about my um, ‘state of being’.”

Dr. Scotts nodded slightly, “Whatever you’re comfortable sharing.”

“Well alright. But only on one condition.”

“Hm? What?”

“You gotta tell me about yourself after.” I said. Admittedly I was curious about the guy. After all, he’d been the first human to actually see me. That and he was admittedly kinda hot. Sure I knew he’d never return the attraction, I mean I was a hand headed monster for God’s sake, but a girl could dream.

Dr. Scotts shrugged, “I suppose that’s only fair.” He looked down at the notepad again, producing a pen from his pocket. “Now, since you don’t remember how you changed, what _do_ you remember?”

I paused, twitching the fingers on my hand-head. “Uh, well I think I had brown... no wait, yeah brown hair. And we lived in an apartment. I mean, it’s all a blur.”

As I spoke, he went to work writing in his notepad. “Alright. And there was nothing you remember that could have possibly turned you? Toxic waste? An artifact of some sort?”

I chuckled at his little joke, “Well, this isn’t a movie, Dr. Scotts. But no, I don’t remember anything.”

“What about after you changed?”

I thought on that for a second, “Well, I don’t remember what happened right after, but I _was_ on the street for a while.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He looked up from his notepad, his eyes filled with concern.

“It’s fine. I mean, it wasn’t for long. And hey, I got to piss in some guy’s garden once.” I shrugged, then continued, “After that, I was taken in by some kind folks.”

“Humans?”

“Nah, people like me. Not like with hands on their heads or anything, but weird, you know?”

Dr. Scotts leaned in. “There are more? Where?”

“I don’t think they’d like me telling you that. Safety and all.” I said.

He leaned back again, tilting his head slightly. “I suppose I can understand that, but then why did you meet me here? And why were you out in public? I would think that would be the opposite of safe for someone of your condition.”

I tapped my head-hand. “Nah, you see I’ve got this psychic power to make people think I’m well, normal. To you humans, I’m just an average lady.” I opened my arms, waving them around at the malt shop and its diners. None of them even so much as glanced. Then I turned my attention back to Dr. Scotts.

I continued, “I could get up and dance on the table if I wanted to. They wouldn’t care. But you, well you’re the first human I’ve ever met who can actually tell what I am.”

“Isn’t that dangerous though? Meeting someone who can actually see you?”

I shrugged, “Maybe, but I guess it’s also kind of a relief.” Truth be told, it had been a horrible idea. Half of me had been screaming not to come here, not to meet Dr. Scotts at all. I almost expected to see men in suits waiting at the doors when I showed up. But damn, I’d been alone for so long. Meeting someone who could see me was something I just couldn’t pass up.

Dr. Scotts began scrawling madly in his notepad, and I wondered if any of it would be legible after this. You know what they say about a doctor’s handwriting.

“Alright. I’ve told you about me,” I said, pulling his eyes away from the paper, “Now it’s your turn.

He blinked a bit confusedly for a moment before recognition filled his eyes. “Oh, oh yes. Of course. What do you want to know?”

“Well, what is it you study? Are you the scientist kind of doctor or the medical type?”

“Scientist.” He said, “A geneticist really. I research mutations.”

Well, that explained why he’d been so gung-ho about me yesterday. I chuckled, remembering how he’d almost slid across the floor trying to get to me like some out of control ice skater.

“Oh, well if you know about that stuff, think you can you fix a mutation?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew the answer.

“Sort of. Usually it’s something that occurs at birth and it can’t be reversed so to speak. Sometimes it can be repaired surgically though, as in the case of an extra thumb. Sadly, I don’t believe that would work for your condition.”

“Huh, well I figured as much.” I shrugged, finally drinking my milkshake. My leech-like mouth grabbed onto the straw. I had been hiding it until now so as not to terrify the poor doc. It’s presence only served to intrigue him more though. Well, I guess nothing got to this guy.

“I know we’re on the topic of my life now,” He said, “But I would like to say that I don’t believe you’re mutated, at least not in a natural sense.”

“Oh?” I looked up from my drink.

“No, I think this was done by someone, or maybe something.”

I nodded silently. In truth I had always thought the same thing. Problem was, I had no clue who could have messed me up in the first place. And even if I did, what was I going to do? Knock on their door like someone peddling their religion and ask them to turn me back? Yeah, that probably wouldn’t fly. I decided to change the subject. It was still his turn after all.

“So, got any pets?” I asked.

“I have a cat.” He told me simply.

I laughed, pointing to his notepad. “So you do like cats, you liar.”

“I suppose I do.” He said. “Frederick is a ragdoll.”

“Oh my gosh, aren’t those the ones that do that floppy thing when you hold them?”

“Yes, yes they are.”

I practically squealed. I loved critters, especially the cuddly ones. That, and fish. You couldn’t cuddle fish but they were good too.

Dr. Scotts had a smile on his face now. “I found him in a colony of feral cats down the street. He would always come out meowing for food, so I usually brought a few cans along.”

“Ugh that’s adorable. And then you took him in, right?”

“After a quick vet appointment, yes. He happens to be my roommate now.” He said.

“So, are you lying about football too then?” I asked slyly.

“No, I hate it. If I do get free time, I listen to podcasts. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Paranormal Extravaganza?”

“With Dave and Justin? Um, yeah I’ve heard. I mean, I’m practically paranormal myself. They’re like my go-to. I mean, usually I listen to them on Youtube but still.” Oh hell yeah, now we were getting somewhere. And this definitely shed some light on how brave this guy was.

Of course, while having a shared interest was nice, there was also a bit of worry building up in the back of my mind. What if Dr. Scotts wasn’t just interested? What if this was going to be some huge breakthrough for him? I could end up dissected in some lab. I imagined him laughing maniacally with a scalpel in his hand as green lightning zapped my decaying corpse.

I envisioned my undead body rising from the hospital bed. _YES MASTER..._

The thought had me shuddering. Definitely not the ideal situation to get myself into.

“You alright there?” Dr. Scotts asked. I jumped a little, broken from the dark depths of my mind.

“Uh yeah. Just nerves.” I said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve hung out with anyone.”

At that moment, his mouth curved up into a soft smile and I felt my fear ease. Dr. Scotts looked concerned, as if he were worrying about me. Suddenly I couldn’t imagine him with a scalpel, or green electricity, or maniacal laughter. Deep in my gut, I felt like this guy actually meant well somehow.

“We’re closing in thirty minutes!” A female employee called out from the kitchen, her soul obviously sapped from her merciless job.

“I’ll pay the tab.” Dr. Scotts said, fishing out his wallet.

“O-oh you don’t have to do that!” I said, rushing to grab mine as well.

He held up a hand, “No, I insist.”

“Well um, okay then.” I couldn’t argue with that.

I watched as he pulled a few bills from the wallet, setting them down on the check left for us about an hour before. Then he smiled at me again, this time less sympathetic. In fact, he looked genuinely happy.

“Here,” He said, scribbling one last thing into his notepad and ripping off a page, “This is my number, Jessica. I don’t suppose you’d like to um, do this again?”

I took the sheet from his outstretched hand, staring down at the surprisingly immaculate writing. Then I met his eyes, his earthy brown eyes, “Trust me, nothing would make me happier.”


End file.
